


He Was Right

by millionreasons



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Grimmauld Place, M/M, Post-Sirius Black in Azkaban, Pre-Order of the Phoenix, reunited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-07 14:14:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6808480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millionreasons/pseuds/millionreasons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> He was right, he was right, he was right. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Was Right

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for my tumblr after receiving an anonymous prompt asking "what do you think Sirius and Remus got up to once they were alone at the HQ in OOTP?"   
> I changed it a bit, making the final prompt: What happened on Remus’ first day alone at the HQ with Sirius?  
> This is just a lil drabble, but I quite liked it so, why not?   
> Thank you for reading, as always you can find me at alwaysmoony.tumblr.com/ask :)

The soft tapping of a wand against the dusty cedar wood table should have been annoying, he realized, but how could he annoyed when _he_ was sitting there?

He who Remus thought would never see the light of day again, and Remus thought he _deserved_ it. Remus thought he deserved worse on somedays, deserved to feel the pain that he felt so deep in his core. Deserved to be sick with grief. Deserved to be refused any sort of contact with the boy who was meant to be his family. He deserved it all and so much more. 

He who Remus cried over every night for 11 months and 3 days. On the fourth day of the 11th month, he threw the picture frame holding _that_ picture against the wall and screamed. Screamed like he didn’t have neighbors (he did, they called the muggle police). Screamed 'how could you?’s and ‘I loved you’s and he knew his words didn’t matter but he screamed anyways.

And wasn’t that fucked up? He still loved the man that ruined it all. Stole everything from him. He spent pennies in a fountain and wishes on stars (oh, the irony) hoping that there was a mistake - that he didn’t do it, that he could never do that to their family. That he’d come back and they’d hold each other and try to glue their world back together. 

But the way he laughed at the cameras, the insanity in his eyes. He didn’t show any remorse, it wasn’t him anymore. Wasn’t his Sirius, his Pads, his lover. 

But God damn, did he miss him. 

And then - get this - he was right all along. It was a mistake. He didn’t do it. He could never do that to their family. He couldn’t count how many times he had told Dumbledore, ‘sir, this isn’t right!’ or ‘he would never. could never!’ and Dumbledore had just shook his head and he had that mysterious twinkle in his eyes, and looking back on it infuriated Remus to no end because he was right, he was right, _he was_ _right_. 

And so now, all was recovered, wasn’t it? 

Of course it wasn’t, things could never be that simple. 12 years in a soul wrenching prison could do that to a man, he supposed. But there was something left, and that was all the importance. He was still Sirius. 

It was awkward, sitting across the table from him as his steely eyes focused on his wand, still patting softly against the wood. Remus stared on at him and wondered if he could feel his gaze burn into his shaggy black hair. If he could, he didn’t show any sort of discomfort. 

The quiet was deafening, the only anchor to his sanity was the soft _tap, tap, tap_ of the wand. He knew he should speak, should try to strike up conversation, but what do you even talk about? The weather? Sports? Nothing seemed suitable. 

So he did the only thing he could think to do, he turned on the radio. 

Sirius’ head lifted up immediately at the sound of the slow track playing and the faintest smile graced his lips. Remus could feel his heart stutter, because after all these years, he was still so beautiful. 

So Remus smiled back and reached out his hand, aching for his touch, hoping this would work, that this could be the start of something that never truly ended. 

The air between them was electric, filled with anxiety and doubtfulness. Both of them hearing a constant stream of “what the fuck are we doing?” 

But then Sirius took his hand, and it didn’t matter. They were Moony and Pads again, and they danced until sunrise but they never said a word. 


End file.
